


An Inch of Snow

by Schediaphilia



Series: Stridercest Week 2018 [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Ambiguous Age, Ice Play, M/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Parent/Child Incest, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sibling Incest, Stridercest Week 2018, tagged underage due to ambiguous aging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-16
Updated: 2018-01-16
Packaged: 2019-03-05 11:46:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13387161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schediaphilia/pseuds/Schediaphilia
Summary: Who will win? A tiny snowball or a bowl of ice cubes. You decide.





	An Inch of Snow

**Author's Note:**

> For Day 1 of Stridercest Week 2018. Prompts I chose were Holiday Cheer and Ice Play. 
> 
> Hastily written and posted, may be edited and replaced in the future.

The snowfall isn't immediately noticed by them. 

It's warm in their small apartment and they're a bit distracted. A small, cardboard Christmas tree lays upon the shitty cardstock table. Dave has pinned tube socks to it, Bro hasn't expressed dislike of them. So they've stayed. Bro is lounging on the futon and Dave is fucking around looking at Chinese menus. This was all apart of the Strider Christmas Ceremony. First, they'd put up shitty half-assed decorations. Then, they'd sit around on their asses and order Chinese food and eat until they felt sick. And that was it really. In between shitty Christmas specials no one in their right-mind would remember (mostly due to blocking it out via sheer will power) they'd pick at their pile of pork fried rice and regard each other only when the Christmas special got too weird. Like, Santa being an immortal God weird. Yeah, that one still weirds Dave out a little.

But then Dave glances at the window by chance. White specks a twinkling in the low-light of the late-afternoon sun. Holy shit. 

"Snow," Dave says, paper crinkling in his hands. 

Bro raises a brow at him and then turns his head. 

"Huh, no shit." 

"Wanna go outside?" 

Bro shrugs. 

"What? It's snowing on Christmas, you can't just ignore that!"

"It's just snow," Bro replies, looking entirely disinterested. 

Dave frowns and throws on his shoes and a jacket. 

"Have fun playing outside," Bro calls out, and Dave can't tell if it's supposed to be passive aggressive or not. Probably is. 

Dave fumbles down staircase after staircase, and after what feels like aged, he reaches the outside and looks up into the grey sky and realizes...

Bro was right. This kind of sucks. Dave turns his attention back to the ground, where snow has barely begun collecting on dead grass, on cracked pavement of the sidewalk and parking lot. He wasn't really what he expected. The snow was falling in big blobs now, and they felt wet and frankly unpleasant when they fell onto Dave's hair and face. 

He frowns. He didn't really think this through. There had to be a way to make this situation at least somewhat fun, right? 

Dave spots a bench and tilts his head in thought for a moment. He takes off his jacket and pushes the small accumulation onto it, holding it unsure in his hands. He takes it in his hands working quickly and creates a loose snowball. Perfect. He deposits it back into his jacket and heads back inside. He dutifully carries it up the stairs, staring at it and hoping it'll make the trip back home. He awkwardly holds it through his jacket as he opens the door.

"That was quick," Bro says without turning to look at him, "Build a snowman with the 5 inches of snow out there?" 

"Nah." Dave says as he walks up behind Bro slowly. 

All according to plan, Bro doesn't turn to regard him, "You decide what you want for food?" 

Dave reaches out- he needs to be quick, and holds the snowball in one hand. He reaches out, takes the plunge, and makes contact with the collar of Bro's t-shirt. He quickly wraps his fingers around it and pulls back- he shoots!

"MOTHERFUCKER!"

He scores! 

Bro has shot up, shaking his shirt with an expression of bewilderment. Dave snickers, watching him wiggle awkwardly, his body moving in the strangest ways to keep contact with the snow to a minimum while trying to get it out of his shirt. 

"What's the matter? It's just snow," Dave says as he plops down on the futon and picks up the Chinese menu again. Bro's breath is strangely ragged as he slowly sits back down. 

"Usin' a man's words against him isn't very gentlemanly," Bro says in a low voice and Dave worries he's actually pissed him off. 

"If you wanted me to be a gentleman, maybe you should've raised me like one," Dave replies with a half-hearted smile.

Bro lets out a quiet laugh and Dave relaxes a bit. 

"Shit, man. Fair." 

Bro leans back  and relaxes, and Dave finally decides on what he wants. Dave turns to Bro to point it out when he notices Bro looking at him. Dave hesitates.

"Decide what you want?" 

"Yeah," Dave replies, and Dave isn't entirely sure how to take Bro's smirk. 

A phone call and an hour later, they have two boxes of pork fried rice, a pupu platter, and their dishes. Dave settles down on the futon with a bowl, precariously filled with rice and orange chicken, Bro opting to eat out of the box.

"Merry Christmas," Bro says between bites of his lo mein, staring absent-mindedly at the disconcerting clay figures on the TV screen. 

"Mmmf," Dave replies with a mouth full of chicken. Damn, chicken is fucking great. 

They continue at a slowing pace, picking at the food as they switch to A Wonderful Life for irony, or something. Dave can't tell at this point where the Christmas specials stopped being ironic and became tradition. Can tradition be ironic? Probably. He'd have to consider the implications of an ironic tradition, and if in fact being a tradition made it unrionic, later. And then it's some Christmas special for an 80's cartoon Dave's never heard of. Finally, halfway through pastel colored animals screeching about the joy of Non-Denomination Wintery Holidays, he opts to head to bed for a food coma induced nap. 

Dave stands, legs wobbly from disuse, and he deposits the empty container from his food into the trash and figures he can leave the rest to Bro. 

"Where do you think you're going?" 

Dave turns and somehow Bro is behind him, arms locking him in place. Dave wriggles against his hold, managing to wrench out of his grip only for Bro to pull him back in, and now Dave is facing him, chest to chest, almost eye-level. 

"I think I'm going to go take a nap," Dave says.

"Not in the agenda, lil' bro," Bro replies and suddenly that smirk from before makes a comeback. 

"No," Dave begins in a more direct tone,  "seriously, later. Unless you're into spontaneous projectile vomiting during whatever you're so hyped up about," Dave says and moves to squirm out of his grip. This time, Bro relents and Dave starts walking to his bedroom-- only for Bro's hand to wrap around his forearm and drag him to the futon. Dave frowns, "Bro, I'm  _serious--"_

But then Bro is taking off his shades and grabbing the pillows they throw onto the floor. 

"Could use a nap myself," Bro says between the metallic crunch of the futon converting to a flat surface. 

Dave resists the urge to smile and kicks off his shoes and jeans, carefully placing his aviators on the coffee table, and flops onto it. It's a tight squeeze, but Bro manages to lay down beside him, an arm tossed over Dave's side, covering both of them in the thin quilt. Dave's never quite gotten used to sleeping next to Bro, if he's going to be honest. Sleeping in general was a bit of an ordeal, add in another people who might sleepily punch you at 5 AM really brought it to a new level. 

So Dave stares at the kitchenette and living room he doesn't remember turning the lights off in, he stares at the TV he also doesn't remember being turned off. He stares at the window, seeing only black where previously specks of white had lit up under streetlights. Dave has the urge to check the weather on his phone but can't be assed to move, not when he has a big, warm human space heater nestled up behind him. His warm, full body, distracts him and soon he's drifting off. When he falls asleep he's thinking of warmth, and colors and shapes that might amount to Bro. 

And when he wakes up he's thinking of  _hot_ and weight, and something that was definitely Bro. Dave groans, blinking his eyes, and for some reason the lights on, and for  _some reason_  Bro has no shirt on and it lying on top of him. Well, that's certainly a way to wake someone up. 

"Wha," Dave babbles eloquently.

"Feel better?" Bro asks, his hair mussed from sleeping, shades still discarded on the coffee table alongside Dave's. 

"I- I guess?" Dave isn't sure, Jesus man give a man some time to wake up. 

Bro is suddenly off of him and the contrast makes Dave shiver. Somehow, it's so much colder without him. Dave grumbles and closes his eyes. Half-asleep, he wonders if he just pretends to be asleep he'll leave him alone. Or maybe if he plays dead. Whichever, really. But then Dave is suddenly cold- much colder, and he yelps, eyes flying open to squirm away only for Bro to hold him down by the shoulder-blade. Dave breathes in through his teeth and finally processes the offending stimulation, the one that's making his stomach muscles waver and spine shiver. Bro is holding an ice cube on his stomach. Dave is suddenly very awake and  very aware of what that smirk Bro had been flashing meant. 

"What's wrong," Bro asks, seemingly unable to hold back the beginnings of a shit-eating-grin, "it's just ice." 

"Ice is a lot colder than snow, asshole," Dave replies, wondering when the fuck Bro had managed to push up Dave's t-shirt without him noticing. 

"Really? I didn't notice," Bro remarks and doesn't bother to hide his smile when he drags the damn thing up Dave's torso. 

Dave makes a noise that might sound suspiciously like a whimper but he would assure you it was not a whimper. By now his body is getting used to the assault, but he still has this sensation like his bones want to shake just to warm up, or maybe to get away from it. 

"What's your end game here," Dave breathes out, out of breath from the tussle, "what you just gonna torture me with ice until you feel better?"

"Maybe," Bro replies in a voice to even it makes Dave nearly groan out in exasperation. 

Bro continues in that manner, holding onto the now half-melted cube and swiping it in now areas just to make Dave shake. His sides seem to induce a favorable reaction and he spends far too long there for Dave's comfort. When Bro reaches off the side of the futon and comes back with another cube, Dave gapes in disbelief. 

"Come on dude, what do you have a bowl of them?" 

"Is that a problem?" 

Bro is smiling again, and the small amount of time from when the last cube left his skin was spoiling Dave rotten because the moment the new cube is placed down he's shivering harder. Dave whines when Bro swipes it on Dave's neck, and then Bro pauses. Bro pulls away from him, letting up on his weight holding him down. 

"Take your shirt off."

"Why the hell would I--" 

Dave pauses, gulping quietly when Bro rocks against his hips. 

"That's why," Bro remarks when Dave becomes aware of his erection. 

Dave isn't sure what to think of this. Even still, he bits his lip and sits up just enough for Bro to help him pull off his shirt. He lies down, and this time Bro doesn't need to hold him down. His skin is still tingling, goosebumps running up his arms when Bro carefully retrieves an ice cube and presses it against Dave's lips. 

Somehow, the cold is different there. It burns in that way only ice can, but the tingling it elicits from the flesh there feels deep and... good. He can feel cold water dripping down his lips and chin. Dave sighs out, Bro pulls the cube away. 

"Good sigh?"

"Good sigh," Dave replies, suddenly feeling a little more confident about where this is headed. 

Bro places the cube in the bowl out of Dave's vision and Dave suddenly can't process the deep, almost painful warmth of Bro's lips against his own. 

Dave would be whispering, "holy shit," were it not for Bro's lips on his, so he opts to mouth the words as Bro pushes his tongue inside his mouth. Dave wraps an arm around Bro's neck, pulls him closer, and loves it when Bro's tongue runs against his. Dave feels like suddenly his entire body is tingling, either from cold, warmth, or excitement he can't tell. 

Bro pulls back, a smile in his voice, "You look good like that."

"Like what?" 

"Your lips are all red," Bro is leaning up, running a finger over his lips. Dave breathes out a moan. The ice left this strange deep pain that feels inexplicably good on his lips, a deep warm bruise the sent tingles down his spine when Bro pressed against his bottom lip. 

"You look like you're drooling," Bro observes in a low voice. 

Dave resists the urge to cringe, "Oh yeah, that's really hot."

"I thought it was," Bro responds.  Oh. 

"Weirdo," Dave breathes out when Bro leans back, retrieving another ice cube. 

"Better wrap this up," Bro says absent-mindedly before he raises back up. They're probably all half-melted by now, Dave thinks.  

Bro swipes the cube along his neck and it's different this time, it still elicits the shiver and makes him feel strangely breathless, but Bro is making his way down his collarbone, down his chest-- and Dave knows exactly what's coming but that doesn't stop him from gasping when the cube makes contact with a nipple. It was already melting, cold water dribbling down his chest as that strange tingling burn ebbed into his flesh. Suddenly, it was hard to breathe for entirely different reasons. An almost crackling burn erupted where the cube met his flesh before Bro relents, swiping it in circles. The sensation makes Dave's eyes flutter closed, chest rise up into the freezing touch. 

"One more," Bro says in a voice so low Dave suspects the words were more for Bro's benefit than Dave's. 

Bro is struggling to keep a good grasp on the cube when he drags it across Dave's chest to keep his promise-- one more. Dave breathes in, feeling slightly dizzy from the sensations. His lips still tingled, an inexplicably good ache running through them and his nipples were no different. By the time Bro is done, he doesn't have a cube to deposit into a bowl. Bro looks into Dave's face, running his hands in loose circles on his chest in such a deep but indirect way to make Dave shake.   
  


"Spoke too soon," Bro speaks with a smile that's all teeth, predatory, "you look even better like this." 

And then he's pinching, the sensation sends jolts through Dave's body and suddenly Dave doesn't know what to do with his hands because he feels like he's falling and needs something to anchor himself. Bro isn't gentle, pinching and pulling and Dave tosses his head to the side, one arm scrambling to clutch at the futon cover uselessly while the other tangles around Bro's neck for dear life. Shocks of deep, burning pleasure shoot down from his chest and he's so hard it hurts, his lips hurt, his chest hurts-- 

Bro pulls back and Dave doesn't hold back a groan of what is definitely not desperation. Certainly not. 

"Lift your hips," Bro instructs as he slides down Dave's legs, supporting himself on his knees. Dave complies hastily and cannot hold back a grin when Bro hooks his fingers around the band of Dave's boxers and slides them down. Hell yeah. 

"What's with the look," Bro asks, and Dave can't take it seriously because his face is obscured by Dave's hard cock. 

"Thought you were torturing me," Dave says, voice sticky sweet.

"I feel better," Bro says simply before shutting Dave up with a long, wet lick from the base of Dave's dick to the tip. 

Fuck, Dave loves when he pulls out the porn star shit. Dave gently curls his fingers in Bro's hair and lets out a sigh, body relaxing while paradoxically tensing as Bro drags his tongue along the tip of Dave's dick. Precum quickly disappears onto Bro's hot, pink tongue and Dave bites his lip. Bro softly sucks the tip into his mouth, cheeks hollowing and flicks his eyes up at Dave's face. Dave smiles, lip escaping the grasp of his teeth with a dull ache. And then suddenly it's so wet, so hot, and Bro's mouth is halfway down his cock in one swoop and  _fuck_ he's way too good at this. Bro slides up with a wet, slow suck and rubs his tongue under the head of Dave's dick and Dave swears he can see him breathe in a deep breath through his nose. 

Dave is gasping, stubbornly forcing his body to keep still when all it wants to do is force his hips upwards. And then Dave's head is thrown back, a deep rumbling moan escaping his throat because it's  _so warm_  and he can feel Bro's tongue and can hear Bro make a quiet grunt of his own. Dave doesn't need to look down to know Bro is deepthroating him like a fucking champ, he's quite familiar with this sensation and knows exactly what the blissful suction is when Bro swallows. But Dave never gets used to this, never gets used to Bro's pink, wet lips wrapped around him, never gets used to the feeling of Bro letting him slip his dick into his throat. Dave feels his thighs tighten, his core spin and twist into a hot, fiery coil. Dave moans lowly, breaths in short hurried bursts and taps Bro's head. An agreed upon, "figure out what you want to do cause this shit's imminently about to blow." 

And Bro doesn't need time to decide and instantly sucks harder, his hands that were on the futon wrapping around Dave's hips. Dave looks down, Bro's fingernails dig into his hips. Bro's eyes are shut and Dave knows he's concentrating. Just because a man can deepthroat don't mean it's no shit, it's not easy shoving a dick down your throat, especially at this angle. Then Dave notices Bro's sweatpants are pushed down, ass exposed and it takes several moments for the information to click together. And Dave grits his teeth in a haphazard grin when he hits his limit, eyes unfocused. His lips part, eyes squeezed closed, fingers tightening in Bro's hair-- 

"Fuck," Dave groans out in one long breath, dick throbbing once, twice-- Bro makes a low, muffled noise of exertion when Dave cums down his throat. And Dave barely has time to ride it out before Bro is shooting up, breathing in air like he's run a mile. 

Dave's body is tingling, head hot and heavy when he says, "Fuck, man, you okay?" 

"Never better," Bro replies, and Dave doesn't have the heart to tell him cum mixed with saliva is dripping down his chin. He'll figure it out.  


End file.
